It is of no
great moment to you, Miles, notwithstanding, as there are plenty more
young women to be had in the world."
"True, sir; but there is only one Lucy Hardinge!" I rejoined with a
fervour and strength of utterance that betrayed more than I intended.
My late guardian actually stopped his horse this time, to look at me,
and I could perceive deep concern gathering around his usually serene
and placid brow. He began to penetrate my feelings, and I believe they
caused him real grief.
"I never could have dreamed of this!" Mr. Hardinge at length
exclaimed: "Do you really love Lucy, my dear Miles?"
"Better than I do my own life, sir--I almost worship the earth she
treads on--Love her with my whole heart, and have loved, I believe, if
the truth were known, ever since I was sixteen--perhaps I had better
say, twelve years old!"
The truth escaped me, as the torrent of the Mississippi breaks through
the levee, and a passage once open for its exit, it cleared a way for
itself, until the current of my feelings left no doubt of its
direction. I believe I was a little ashamed of my own weakness, for I
caused my horse to walk forward, Mr. Hardinge accompanying the
movement, for a considerable distance, in a profound, and, I doubt
not, a painful silence.
"This has taken me altogether by surprise, Miles," my late guardian
resumed; "altogether by surprise.
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